Alice nearly choked on her tears when she turned to find two figures sitting in the shadows of the prison cell. Heart pounding, she took several steps forward, squinting her eyes in an effort to sharpen their outlines.

"Excuse me?" she said.

One of the figures leaned forward, allowing the dim light streaming in from the hallway to illuminate its face. It was a man. A disheveled man who, despite looking relatively young, had silver-white hair that stuck up every which way. Lifting his eyes to her, Alice was taken aback, not by their lavender color, but rather by the madness of them.

"Why," he began again, "is a raven like a writing desk?"

Even with the horrors she had just witnessed still fresh in her mind, the riddle was a welcomed distraction. Never one to turn down a good puzzle, she thought for a moment. Her mind went through every similarity between a raven and a writing desk, and she only gave up when the image of a black raven beheading her guardian was all that popped into her head.

"I do not know," she said, shaking her head in an attempt to rid herself of the memory. "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

The man scoffed and leaned back into the shadows without another word.

"Are you not going to tell me?" Alice asked.

"No, I am not," he replied.

"Well that's very rude."

"I was asking you a question, my dear girl, not the other way around," he said, sounding rather bored. "It is in fact you who are being rude."

Alice furrowed her brow, thoroughly confused. "But that's not how riddles work?"

He scoffed again. "Are you such an expert? Because, if you were, I'd expect you to be able to answer such a simple question."

"If it's so simple, I don't see why you asked me in the first place."

"Oh stuff and nonsense, it's like talking to a teapot."

"Don't mind him, miss," came another voice from the shadows.

Alice turned her attention to the second figure, and a March Hare came forward, trembling slightly, but sporting a friendly smile. His brown fur was all a mess, and his bloodshot eyes were wide with terror.

"He's quite mad," the Hare whispered, nervously stealing a glance at his companion who appeared to be dozing off.

"Well, madness is no excuse for rudeness," Alice declared, crossing her arms and frowning at the madman.

"You expected to find manners in a prison cell?" the madman mumbled, eyes still closed as he lounged against the stone wall.

"I don't know what I expected to find," Alice admitted. "I never expected to find myself in a prison cell."

"What are you in for?" asked the Hare.

"Stealing one of the Queen's tarts," Alice said. "Allegedly."

The disheveled madman guffawed in the background. "A thief who never expected to find herself in prison?"

"A good thief has faith in her abilities," Alice said.

"Misguided faith it seems."

"And what are you here for?"

"Hattery."

"Making hats is not illegal."

"Depends on the hat."

"What sort of hats were you making?"

"Fool's garb," the Hare said. "You know the sort? Black, three points, little bells on the ends?"

"You got thrown into prison for something so silly?" Alice asked.

"My thoughts exactly," the madman agreed.

"It did not help that you sent each of these hats to Her Majesty," the Hare said, trembling slightly.

"I thought that it would do her good to be reminded of the pain of losing someone dear to her," the madman said, opening one eye to glance their way. "Perhaps she would think twice regarding these inane executions."

Alice's heart sank, and she tried to quickly change the subject. "And why are you here?" she asked the Hare.

"Guilty by association," he said, ears drooping low.

"That hardly seems fair."

"I doubt Her Majesty cares much of fairness these days," the madman said.

Alice looked about the prison cell, trying to see if there were any other strange characters lurking about. "How long have you been here?"

"Time has lost all meaning to me now," the madman said, waving a lazy hand at her.

"I'd say a good two months," the Hare answered.

Hope filled Alice's heart. Perhaps she wouldn't be executed after all. "Two months," the madman mumbled. "Imagine how many tea times we've missed. Such a shame."

"I'm surprised the Queen has kept you here so long," Alice said to the Hare, deciding to ignore the madman. "This prison seems rather...empty."

The Hare quivered. "Imprisonment is not Her Majesty's choice of punishment. As you, I am sure, are well aware."

"Then how is it you two are still..." Alice rubbed her neck, unable to speak the words.

"It appears that despite her heartless state, the Queen is still capable of some fond feelings regarding former friends," the madman declared. "If you can call imprisonment a gesture of affection."

"You were friends with the Queen?"

The Hare shrunk to half his size as Alice's gaze rested upon him, hoping for more intelligible and informative answers from him than his companion. "A-a-a-h, th-th-that is to s-s-say..." he sputtered.

"A better question!"

Alice's attention turned to the madman who was now on his feet and approaching her. He was tall and finely dressed, although the clothing betrayed his long stay in the cell. Or, considering his madness, perhaps that's how he always looked. As he stooped before her, a glint in his eyes, she couldn't help but be distracted by his lopsided, crimson cravat and tea-stained silk dress shirt. Even the buttons on his plum jacket were crooked and mismatched.

"You seemed awfully friendly with the lanky little guard who was down here just moments ago," he said with a devilish grin.

Alice swallowed. "What of it?"

"Seems like quite the contradiction, does it not A guard being enamored of a thief? Such odd pairings can only lead to heartbreak."

His eyes hardened as he spoke, and, though she knew not why, Alice felt defensive. Pulling herself to her full height, she puffed out her chest defiantly. "Are you suggesting I'm using Ace?"

"On a first name basis, are we?"

"If I were using him, would I not have done something a tad more daring to keep myself from being locked up in here?"

"I've found the most devious of hearts like to play hard-to-get," he responded, the coldness in his eyes piercing.

Alice would not relent. "I only just met Captain Ace this afternoon. That's hardly enough time to fool him into falling in love with me."

The man twitched slightly at her words. With a final glance her way, he began pacing the cell. "How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail..."

He continued to mumble and walk about in circles, repeating the rhyme over and over again. Alice, rightfully confused, turned to the Hare, who was still cowering from her gaze. Kneeling before him, she offered a warm smile.

"If you don't want to speak of the Queen, that's perfectly fine," she said, though her curiosity was itching at her something terrible.

The Hare relaxed only slightly.

"Let us speak of other things," she offered.

"Of shoes and ships and sealing wax," mumbled the madman who continued his pacing.

"My name is Alice Liddell," Alice offered, thinking it safe to give her true name considering she was already in prison.

The Hare put out a trembling paw. "Haigha."

Head cocked, Alice attempted to repeat the name. "Hare?"

"No, Haigha. Rhymes with mayor."

Alice nodded, although she wondered at the spelling. Her eyes travelled to the madman mumbling nursery rhymes behind her. "And what is your friend's name?"

"Hatta," Haigha said. "Former owner of Hatta's Marvelous Millinery."

"What happened to it?" Alice asked.

"The Queen had it boarded up after throwing us into prison. At least that's what I've heard."

"From whom?"

"The Dormouse stopped by a few weeks ago," Haigha said, nodding to a small crack in the stone wall that allowed in a tiny glimpse of sunlight. A little, wet nose whistled through it. "He promised to find a way out for us, but he fell asleep. Still, very kind of him to think of it."

Alice got down on all fours and peered through the crack. Outside she could see that dusk was just settling over the kingdom. Had it not even been a day since that fateful tea party? Sitting back on her knees, Alice heaved a sigh.

"If only I had more Cake," she lamented.

"Cake?" Haigha repeated. "But what good is dessert without tea?"

Alice dug through her sash and coin purse. "I had some, but between all the growing and shrinking and riding and near-executing, it seems it has disappeared." She grabbed her smol last of all, digging her arm deep into it, all the way up to her shoulder. "And I emptied this out back at home, so I doubt there could be anything inside."

Hatta stopped his pacing to watch Alice rummage through the purse. "Where did you get that?" he asked slowly.

"My guardian, Mr. Ferret, got it for me as a gift when I made my first caper," Alice explained, still rifling through the smol, more out of desperation than expectation. "He had it specially made by a crafter from Chess."

Hatta's eyes widened for a moment, but Alice was distracted when something sharp pricked her fingers. Pulling her arm out, she found in her palm a tiny creature, which was carefully clutching a piece of white Cake.

"Tart!" Alice exclaimed.

"If I am not mistaken, that is in fact a hedgehog," Haigha corrected.

"How in Hearts did you get in there?" Alice marveled, peering into her wondrous purse.

"Such a stupid question to ask," Hatta said, kneeling beside her. "Better to ask, what does he have in his paws?"

"It appears to be Cake. I can only hope perhaps Shrinking Cake?"

Hatta grinned and turned to Alice. "Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there, Friend?"

Alice raised a suspicious eyebrow at Hatta's sudden chumminess.